The Sun and The Moon
by Excel Aunt
Summary: Chark Kent/Chloe Sullivan: Expanded Chlark scene in Season 7 "Fracture" episode. Friendship, angst, death, love. The Eclipse is told from Lana Lang's perspective. Let me know what you think if you haven't yet.
1. The Sun

The Sun and The Moon is a short story explaining what happened in "Fracture" from the point where Chloe dies and how Clark helps her recover to health. My favorite portion of this story is Lana's reaction, as she feels less and less important to Clark.

I'm sort of proud that so many people like this short story.

* * *

Clark Kent enjoyed staring out of sunlight windows. Clark, as a young boy, would become transfixed in the picture window. He would just stop playing and stand in a beam of sunlight. He liked doing this more than eating. Clark's adoptive father Jonathan built Clark his own place to watch the sun. It was above the horses and farm equipment, but it was private. Clark could go there and not be disturbed by his parent's concern. They knew, although Clark did not, that Clark was an alien from another world. His instincts weren't the same as a human's and it might be good for Clark to have a spot of his own, where he could be himself. He could look out his own window until he was content.

There was a logical reason for his behavior: Clark's body used the sunlight differently than humans. It was the source of his super powers. The sun strengthened him and comforted him. It nourished his body fueling growth, from boyhood, to adolescence and then manhood. It was the source of his super-strength and speed and gave him other marvelous abilities, like heat vision and super breath. There really wasn't a limit at what he could do when the sun provided.

He leaned on the sun now, his ultimate comfort food. He looked outside, memorized in the winter's brightness, hoping, that the world would not look in. He himself couldn't turn around, and face his world now. Chloe was dead and all he could do was miss her.

He always felt close to Chloe. Even before he told her that he was an alien, they had been good friends. Telling her was a natural extension of that relationship. Clark's trust in Chloe was returned many times to him. Chloe's friendship ministered to his anxieties about himself. She was always there as his lighthouse. She helped him navigate around his problems. She protected him by gauging the tides of change.

He tried to protect her. It was easier before she manifested her meteor-power, her ability, to die and come back. The first time it happened, it was a surprise. She described exactly like being asleep and waking up. This was the second time, and Clark was starting to wonder if Chloe was going to come back at all. Maybe her coming back last time was a fluke.

Clark had patiently waited for her to recover, eventually, he gave up on it. The worse part about it, Chloe died to save him. When she reached to save Lex, she was really reaching to save him. So, he felt responsible. She would not have done it if he hadn't been involved.

The rest of Clark's life, he'd never have a friend as wonderful and self-sacrificing as Chloe. It would be his voice that would speak for Chloe from now on. He wanted to share how special she was. It wouldn't be right to stay silent at her funeral.

Clark crafted his words while staring out of her apartment window. He felt that his speech reflected their friendship, everything that it was and the indelible mark she left inside of him. Chloe would have liked it, but he also knew she would have teased him mercilessly about it too.

"Clark," Chloe's voice whispered. "I'm glad my life meant so much to you."

Clark couldn't believe how his mind created Chloe's voice in such a realistic way. He felt himself falter as he pretended Chloe was talking with him.

"Clark, is there anything you've wanted to tell me?"

Chloe wanted him to say good-bye, but he answered her question with a different revelation. Not the one she wanted to hear. Not that one, not yet.

"Chloe, when I first developed super-hearing, I heard you all the time." Clark voiced. "I had to teach myself to tune you off, but still, you could always call me. Did you know that? Whenever you said my name, I heard you. I guess it's you that can hear me now, anytime you want.

"I need your help Chloe." Clark muttered, turning around to look at her corpse. "I need your opinion here. I think Lois deserves to say good-bye to you. She's not going to believe you're dead unless she sees. But she'll want answers, and then, I'll be telling her, probably everything.

"I can convince Lois to keep the secret. But I want you to know, I'm not doing this because I want to share my secret, but because you deserve her good-bye.

"You can't be replaced Chloe. You just need to know that. You can't be replaced."

A few weeks ago, Clark and Chloe discussed telling Lois about Clark's real origins. Both of them saw the advantages of telling Lois. Chloe wouldn't have to block Lois through Clark's lies anymore, and Clark might be able to finally convince Lois to drop her mission to get Lex. However, it was Clark that finally decided against it. He'd reconsider telling her if she really needed to know. Chloe was dead, and Lois, as her cousin, should know how Chloe died.

"But, here's the problem. I can't call the sheriff because, I don't want to tip-off Lex for his 33.1 experiments. I'm not leaving your body to anyone. I'm not going to let you become his postmortem lab rat.

"I'll take you somewhere safe, use my heat vision and hide your ashes."

Clark forced himself to look at Chloe's lifeless face.

"Chloe, I was hoping Kara might fly your remains to the moon, once she's has her powers back. You'd be safe and you can watch out for me, until I can come and get you.

Clark felt something tug inside of him. Chloe didn't move, but he shifted on her bedside. His ears spun and he felt dizzy. He had felt this way before, right before he heard Chloe call for him the first time she woke from her death sleep. Clark's vision switched into x-ray mode and he scoped Chloe's chest. He saw her heart, struggling back to life beneath her bust.

"CHLOE!" Clark yelled.

He was absolutely amazed. One eye watched her heart pump, the circulation pushing through her body. The other eye kept her face in constant view. Tiny amounts of color returned to her lips. She inhaled. Chloe was breathing!

THUD-THUMP-THUD-THUMP-THUD-THUMP

Clark's heart pumped at light speed, waiting for her to jump back into his life.

Her eyes opened and her breathing quickened.

"Chloe! Chloe!"

She looked past Clark, confused. Her eyes were like glass.

"Claaaaaaaark?"

"I'm here." Clark said reassuringly. "Chloe, I'm here!"

"Coooold."

Clark discovered something else his alien body could do. He made a pocket of heat for her, just by exhaling.

Her face colored-in more, turning black spots into gray shadows.

"I can't see you." She shivered.

Clark groaned and cradled her head to examine her eyes. He saw the problem. Her retinas had no circulation. She moved her eyes to find him. She was scared. He had to say something:

"You've been through a lot Chlo'. Give it time. I'm going to move you to the couch."

Chloe's heart pumped hard, pushing congealed blood back into action. Her body slowly drew breath. Her lungs instantly used the oxygen to thin her blood.

Chloe opened her mouth wider, sucking in more air. She needed more oxygen and Clark realized he was holding her too tight. He loosened his grip and she deliberately forced as much air into her lungs as possible. Chloe tilted her head and eyes backwards:

Relief.

She was alive!


	2. The Moon

"Is this better?" Clark asked. He sat down on the couch, resting Chloe in his lap.

"Last time. Easier." Chloe confessed.

Clark didn't doubt it. From what he could see, she was struggling terribly. She was on a long, painful road to recovery. Her legs and arms were still gray dead limbs. The flesh around her heart and face was improved. That was good. Her heart pushed the blood into the critical areas first. Clark guessed that Chloe would be fine, as her blood circulation moved outward, renewing the tissues.

He x-rayed her face again and confirmed his suspicion. He saw blood moving in the arteries and veins within her head. He switched his eyes back to regular vision and grinned. She looked almost pink and so much better sitting up, her infrastructure working with gravity, supporting her vascular system.

Her eyes found his.

"Chloe, I missed you."

Chloe was silent. She looked bewildered, trying to move her head, searching for rest.

"Chloe, talk to me."

"Clark, I want to lie down." Chloe said, struggling against the support of his arms.

"No." Clark said, concerned. He was convinced she should sit up. "Chloe, you'll lose the ground you made in the last few minutes."

"Please." Chloe said, in a voice Clark had never heard before. She was begging him.

"No." Clark said firmly.

Chloe looked at him with her soft green eyes and tried to lean away from him. He held her head and back upright. He didn't need his super-strength to stop her. His hands were large and she was very small and fragile.

"Why?" Chloe asked. "Why are you doing this?" she panicked.

Clark felt her blood pushing into the dead areas of her neck and shoulders, pain waxing beneath her gray skin.

"Because your skeleton can help you if you're vertical."

"It hurts Clark!" Chloe erupted. "It hurts! Let me down, please! Please Clark. Please!"

"I'm sorry." Clark said. "I'm so sorry. If I could do this for you I would."

Chloe dripped large, thick tears and stared through Clark as he denied her the relief she wanted. He could feel her spirit break, cracking under the excruciating pain that comes from regeneration.

"I'm sorry." Clark said again.

"You're such a bastard. I hate you."

Clark couldn't believe anything could cut him so deeply.

"The pain must be ebbing away right now if you can speak at all. How are your eyes? Can you see me?"

"I see you're one big ass." Chloe said, lifting her hand. She stopped in mid-motion. Her hand painfully tingled. Then, she tried to lift the other hand. She looked at the blurry limbs, amazed as new pain flowed into them.

"Clark, not again! Make it stop." She bit her lip in agony and let one hand flop on Clark's chest as she drifted off.

Clark touched Chloe's hand.

"Chloe!" Clark said, horrified that he didn't notice sooner. "You are freezing."

Clark reached around for the couch's blanket and wrapped it around their bodies. He then shot rays of heat into the orange fireplace. The logs exploded in flame and kicked out a lot of smoke.

Chloe didn't notice his mistake and he didn't care. All Clark could think was to get her warm. It was up to him. Maybe that's why she was in so much pain. Clark focused on his own internal thermostat. He was resilient to hot and cold, because he instinctively calibrated himself to environmental extremes. Now he wanted to override his comfort, to what Chloe needed.

He sat there, holding Chloe, concentrating, until he broke a sweat. The heat of his body seemed to help. Chloe's breathing smoothed out slightly as he mastered the trick. The struggle he felt under Chloe's skin lessened, but the pain continued to travel away from her heart into different parts of her body. It would eventually exit her through her feet.

"Clark," Chloe moaned.

"Yeah."

"I itch."

"That's good." Clark sighed. "Your body getting the blood it needs. How are your feet? Can you feel them?"

"They're cold."

Clark exhaled another pocket of heat on her feet. Chloe sort of balked a bit, a little surprised, but then she smiled.

"Thank you."

"You're welcome."

"I'm sorry I called you a bastard ass."

"Well, it was a nice change from big dumb alien."

Chloe's voice sounded more like her. The pitch was right, the timbre was closer.

"I don't hate you, Clark."

"I know." He was surprised at his alleviated hurt.

Chloe felt like she should say something more than "I'm sorry". She was now aware of what was happening and why. Her brain just couldn't comprehend before, the process crippled her mind. Clark was holding her, almost caressing her. He was tender. It felt good, so warm. She could feel how focused Clark was, keeping himself quiet and still, using that amazing body of his to keep her warm, to ease her pain.

"Have you ever heard that near death experiences make you horny?" Chloe asked.

"I have." Clark swallowed.

"It's a total lie." Chloe melted as she said that. "You've got to try something different next time you want me in your lap."

It was so Chloe. Trying to make him laugh and make things less serious. He looked directly in Chloe's face and softly agreed.

"I'll remember that."

Her spirit recovered, her body was still a problem. He looked into her eyes again, wanting to check her retinas, but instead, he got lost and forgot himself. His lips brushed hers. He blushed and turned his head to the fire.

"How much?"

"How much what?"

"How much, do you love me?" Chloe clarified.

Clark's answer was stuck inside of him.

"On a scale from one to ten?" Chloe continued.

"How are your feet?" Clark interrupted, "I should help you stand, for your legs' sake."

"I feel them tingle now, yes."

"And you're not as cold?" Clark said hopefully.

"Not when I've got my own Kryptonian heating pad."

"I've never been so motivated to learn something new so fast." Clark admitted.

"Clark. You're the best. I almost feel pliable."

"Good."

"But you won't answer my question." Chloe observed. "I guess, because… I guess I don't know why. We don't have secrets anymore. Tell me."

Clark nodded. Chloe had given her life in the last twenty-four hours.

"How much do I love you?" Clark repeated. "What do you think?"

"A six or seven."

Clark shook his head in disagreement. He pushed Chloe's blonde bob off her check and let his finger trace her jaw line.

"There's no number high enough Chloe. It doesn't exist."


	3. The Orbit

Chloe ignored the painful rush starting again to hear Clark.

"Chloe, I thought it was obvious."

"It's still nice to hear." Chloe said. "And know for sure. And know it's real."

She gritted her teeth as the pain overcame her. This time her abdomen and hips were attacked. She hung onto Clark, grimacing. She reached to rub a muscle, but Clark wrapped his hand on the spot and massaged the knot loose.

"Let me know if it's too much." Clark said.

Chloe buried her head on Clark's shoulder, tears welling in her eyes. It was too much; too much to take in at once. It was painful in so many ways: It was wonderful to feel so alive. She felt so absorbed in Clark, she was barely aware she was in her apartment. She didn't want leave his calm, steady strength. But she knew Clark was going to force her to stand next. She didn't want to try. Sitting on Clark cut off the circulation past her upper thighs. The sudden release of the pressure point frightened her.

"Chloe, it's time." Clark said.

"I know."

Clark stood, carrying her. Chloe had her arms in a tight hug, bracing herself on him.

"Chlo', this might be sort of painful. Don't be afraid of hurting me, if pulling on my neck or hair…"

Chloe snickered weakly at him. He was being stupid.

"But, yeah, you know that, don't you?"

Without warning, Clark moved his hand to her rear, splaying his fingers across both checks. He then moved Chloe so her legs dangled down, not letting her feet touch the floor. He adjusted her weight to his forearm, wrapping his hand to her hip bone. Soon her blood would drop into her knees, her shins, ankles and feet.

She started to shake in agony. He couldn't see her face this time as it contorted. She gnashed her teeth together as she pressed her chin on his shoulder. It would be over soon.

"Clark, I think it would have been easier to stay dead," she whimpered.

Clark gasped. "Chlo', please, don't say that. Don't ever say that." Thank God Chloe couldn't see his face.

"Clark, did it work?" Chloe asked, talking over her sobs.

"What?"

"Going into Lex's mind?" Chloe said, "Did it work?"

"Yeah. Lex's mind is a strange place."

"Really, why am I not surprised?" She tried to laugh.

Chloe's back lengthened and her feet started to dig into his shins. She wanted to rest them on the ground.

"His inner child, Alexander, found Lois and Kara for me."

She lifted her chin from Clark's shoulder and looked into his red eyes. With a nod, she told him to lower her. Chloe slid down Clark as he lowered her closer to the floor.

"Where were they?"

"In a junk yard. Being held by one of Kara's coworkers."

She stood on Clark's feet, like she used to stand on her dad's feet when she was small. Clark had his arm high, holding most of her weight at her shoulders; her hands were on his biceps. He wasn't sure what to do next. He had to support Chloe's weight, but he had to get her moving too. Clark walked around the room backwards, making exaggerated movements. Chloe mimicked walking forward, talking high steps, up and down, pushing her legs back to normal. Her muscles were in a state of atrophy. It was hard work for her.

"I realize this is a little weird, Chloe." Clark said.

"I think we pass weird ages ago."

"Maybe… But your muscles are stiff."

"Because I was one."

"Chloe, why did it take so long this time?"

"I don't know. I guess each time is going to be different. Or maybe my power wanes each time I try to use it."

Chloe went back to her work, walking. Clark went around the room a few times. In each circle, as Chloe seemed more confident, he gave her back more weight. He stopped only twice. The first time, was so Chloe could rest. The second time, it was to let her work on her balance.

Chloe slid her feet off of Clark's, delighted that her bare feet could feel the shag rug underneath, each toe could grab onto the pile. Her ear rested on Clark's chest, as she allowed herself to feel the sensation of standing. She clung to him for one last moment, trying to find strength to pull away.

"Clark, I want to try to walk now, on my own."

He had been holding her for forty-five minutes. He dreaded letting her go, tearing apart the intimacy they shared. Chloe held onto his elbows, and slowly, took a step backwards, keeping her focus on Clark's stomach. Her hands slid into his. Joints popped under the weight Clark relinquished back to her. It was too soon he thought. He was about to take her back.

"It's okay Clark. A joint cracking here or there is sort of normal for me." Chloe said, stopping him.

"You sure?" He stooped a little so Chloe could see him better. There was so much worry in his face. When did Clark grow wrinkles?

"Yes." Chloe said, placing her hand on his face, touching those lines, her thumb pressed his lips. "Thanks for worrying so much. I love you too."

And there it was.

It was the moment that changed Clark's idea about Chloe forever. It consumed him. His concern for her was completely beyond friendship. He wanted to know she'd always be with him. He doubled-over at the thought she actually _could_ always be with him, if she were careful. She could be with him. She was special for that reason.

Clark heard a low, digestive rumble from Chloe.

"Hungry?" Clark said, a little thankful for the diversion. It was easier to talk about food than the revelation pounding through him.

"Yeah – I'm starving." Chloe answered. "Clark, I need to clean up. Could you put something together?"

"Your body's still adjusting and I don't want you to fall."

"Clark, if I need help, I'll ask for it."

"Chloe, this is no time to be modest."

"I'm not a prude Clark. If I need you, I'll ask. But I'm so hungry; you'll be more helpful in the kitchen. Please, I'm famished."

Clark used his x-ray vision and scanned Chloe's body, trying to find any problem spots. She looked like herself. Even her gait recovered as she walked away from him.

Clark rummaged through the Chloe's tiny refrigerator. He heard the bath water run and Chloe milling around in the bedroom, probably finding a change of clothing and her toiletries. She didn't have a lot of food. Lois's Double Chocolate Chuck Fudge Ice Cream was going to be Chloe's entrée for a while. Behind the ice cream, Clark found some frozen steaks. He used the last of his energy to defrost them, then, he dug out the broiler pan. Chloe usually kept muffins in the bread tin, and sure enough, there were a few left. He found some apples on a shelf that seem okay still. The dinner he put together wasn't much, but it would be better than nothing.

When it was ready Clark went into the bedroom to check on Chloe. She was lying very quietly on the bed again. She looked weak. What happened to calling if she needed him?

"Chloe?" He gently shook her shoulder.

"Um?"

"Why are you lying down?"

"I felt a little light-headed."

"Quit scaring me. I thought for a second that… We were back at square one."

"Can you get me some water?" Chloe asked. "I'm okay, really."

Clark went into the kitchen, found a glass and turned on the faucet. He was upset in a way he couldn't explain. Not angry, but hard pressed for the right words. She couldn't risk herself, her life, like that again. He couldn't go through that again.

He returned to the bedroom as Chloe put on her slippers.

"Here you go." Clark said, handing her the glass.

"Thanks." Chloe sipped. "Lois didn't ah, see me … dead? Did she?"

"No, she had to scoot back to the _Planet_ to write a story about what happened in Detroit."

"Yeah, Lex will kill that story in a heartbeat."

Clark couldn't help himself.

"Speaking of heartbeats, you didn't have one for over eighteen hours."

Chloe shimmered in shock at what he told her. Had it really been that long?

"I was hoping we could skip the lecture and go straight to the welcome back dinner, I'm starving."

He wouldn't let her walk away from him or the topic. She was lucky she could walk at all.

"That's fifteen hours longer than the last time Chloe. I've been sitting here, literally,  
trying to think of what to say at your funeral."

"Well, let's both be glad that I'm alive, 'cause I know how much you hate givin' speeches."

Chloe escaped his proximity.

"Chloe, I appreciate what you did for me, it goes, beyond friendship, but you can never do it again."

Chloe hid herself behind the kitchen's island.

"Clark I have the power to save people's lives. Now obviously, I'm the last person that thought she would drag Lex back from the clutches of death, but it was my decision to make."

Clark couldn't disagree with this. He wasn't interested in taking away her decision. He was interested in keeping her alive. She had to make a decision to live.

"Of course it was." Clark agreed, but his face said something completely different.

Chloe reflected on his nonverbal hint.

"You know, you're not wrong. As great as this power is, it does come with a lot of consequences. And I think that one of the responsibilities for both of us, is staying alive. Maybe I am pushing my luck with this whole death thing. I mean, it is death after all."

Clark closed the gap, walking around the island. They were on the same page after all. She was asking him not to die: he was asking her not to die.

"Does that mean you're never going to use your abilities again?"

Clark really wanted her to answer affirmatively. He also knew that she couldn't promise him that. Just like he couldn't promise Chloe that he'd never risk himself to save someone.

"It means I'm more confused now than ever. Out of the entire catalog of meteor abilities, why was I the one chosen to be in charge of such an amazing gift?"

"Well, because, I chose you, didn't I?" Clark thought. He liked the idea that he had some say in his life's greater purpose. He didn't like paradox. Was Chloe chosen because they were good friends, or did he choose her as a friend because it had been engineered? He the alien, she the human, fixed permanently to orbit one another.


	4. The Eclipse

Lana Lang owns a silver-backed, boar hair bristled brush. It belonged to her great grandmother and had been passed down to selected offspring. She knows it's not rightfully hers, that it should belong to her cousin Ruth in Edge City. Every other year, she receives a kind note from Ruth, casually asking for the brush. Every other year, Lana trashes Ruth's note and enjoys the fact that she has something the other Potters want. Grandma Elaine's silver brush is hers. Nell stole it from crazy Aunt Marilyn.

Lana pulls this brush through her hair every night and every morning. She wonders how her great-grandmother acquired the brush. Elaine's family lost everything during the great depression. Lana figures the brush had been purchased later on, when times were good and money was not as scarce.

Her Great Aunt Louise had owned the brush too. She probably brushed her hair with it every morning and night, until the day she was murdered. Funny, her mother also owned the brush and she was killed tragically too.

The brush is obviously cursed.

"No, it's just a brush", Lana thought. She refuses to pursue weirdness. That's Chloe's turf.

Chloe.

Lana vigorously applies the silver-backed brush to ends of her long, dark hair. She's going to have to talk to Clark about Chloe. Things are hard enough right now between them. Throwing Chloe in the mix might sink them for good. Then were would she be? Lana loves Clark.

How could Clark use her like this? He's off on some adventure with Chloe. Last night, he saves the life of her loathsome ex-husband, a man she wishes dead. But she's promised Clark she would stay out of it. Never-mind the fact she told Clark about Project Intercept. She had to leave. Chloe got to stay with Clark.

Clark didn't come home last night.

Chloe just needs to let Clark go. She was happy with Jimmy. She can be happy with someone else. Leave Clark alone.

"Yep," Lana says, putting down the brush. "I have to talk with Clark."

Her cell jingles and Lana hears the voice of their friend Lois.

"Hey, Lana." Lois says brightly. "What's going on?"

"I'm leaving for Metropolis."

"Lana, can you do me a huge favor?"

Lois explains that Clark called to tell her to immediately file her story at _The Daily_ _Planet_. She didn't have time to return to Smallville with Kara. Lex is still alive and the _Smallville Ledger_ is going to scoop her unless she stays in Metropolis and turns in her eye-witness account.

On queue, Lana says "Lex is alive?" feigning surprise and interest.

"I know!" Lois says. "I've seen a lot of strange things in Smallville, but I think Motor City might be Smallville's match. There's no way someone can survive what I saw. Not without some sort of miracle. Clark and Chloe are going to hunt down that lead. But I've got a problem. Can you take Kara off my hands, she has amnesia and I can't expect her to hang out while I work. I'd worry too much."

"Why doesn't Clark let Chloe follow the lead, so he can see his sick cousin himself?" Lana asks. She hasn't talked to Clark since she left him in the hands of Lionel Luthor and the machine known as Project Intercept. She doesn't know what lie Clark told Lois. God, she hates lies.

"He wouldn't say exactly. It was something about a bomb and disarming it… Your boyfriend is so weird."

Lana stops at the kitchen counter to fill her travel mug with coffee while Lois rattles on and on about how weird Clark is. Lois doesn't know Clark's secret. He's an alien from the planet Krypton. Clark has super-powers. She understands why it's a secret, but God, she hates secrets too.

"Don't worry. I'll get her. I can work from home."

* * *

Lana's day refuses to improve. She tried to call Clark a few times, but he wasn't picking up. She even tried to call Chloe once. Nothing. She was completely in the dark, not knowing where he is, until Clark just showed up around five. He didn't even say hello. He just changed his shirt.

That night, she baked a chicken-pie, Kara's favorite for dinner, but no one ate it. Clark sat at the table and moped. She wants to make their life work, but Clark's not helping. Luckily, Kara did all the talking. She asked Clark about herself. Clark wants to tell her that she's an alien from another planet like he is, but he can't. He doesn't have the energy to do it right. Lana understands because she's tired too. They haven't slept properly since February. And he hasn't been home for over twenty-four hours.

"Clark, you're so tired." Lana says. "Why don't you turn in and call it a night."

"I think I might." Clark says, leaving promptly.

Two minutes later, Clark is upstairs in the bathroom, taking a shower. He'll be in bed in ten.

"Come on, Kara." Lana says.

"Where are we going?"

Lana takes Kara to the barn, leaving dishes unwashed and food out on the table.

"Before you left us, you wanted me to show you how to groom a horse. I figure this is something we can do and reacquaint ourselves. Besides, tomorrow morning it's your turn to muck the stalls. Clark will probably do it for you, but maybe you can surprise him. I think he'd like that. He wants to talk to you. Morning's a good time for him. He's too tired right now."

Lana refused to show Kara how to groom the horses before, because Kara was still too out-of-control with her super-powers. It would spook the horses and the last thing Lana wants to do is see Buttercup or Storm destroyed. Right now Kara doesn't have her powers, but she's eager and Lana likes the gentleness and freeness of her mind. It reminds her of Clark, back after the second meteor-shower. That was a magical time for them. His powers had been removed, as was the weight of the world. His focus was on her then. Clark doesn't see her like he once did. She's been eclipsed by Chloe.

Lana joins Clark in bed after her shower. He's sleeping deeply and it's the first time in a while that Lana feels like she can sleep deeply too. They no longer touch each other or hold on to another in their slumber. The presence of the other irritates them. They share a bed. They try to sleep. They don't have sex.

Tomorrow, she'll wake up alone. She'll pick out an outfit. She'll brush her hair with the silver-backed brush and start a new day. She'll work on Clark and getting their relationship right.

The morning arrives and Lana wakes finding Clark next to her. Clark really is zapped. He'll perk up once the sun hits him from the bedroom window. He's muttering something but Lana can't tell what it is. She leans over and kisses him at his ear. He pulls away at her touch. He wants to stay in his dream.

"Mind if I take the bathroom first?" Lana says.

"No."

Lana stands in front of the bathroom mirror, running her brush through her hair. She reassures herself that Clark does love her, that he's not given up, so she shouldn't either. She's committed herself to the idea that she can be completely honest with Clark. She's done things that she regrets today. Marilyn died because of her. She hopes Ruth never finds out about her mother.

How will she tell Clark?

Maybe the brush is cursed.

"No," she reminds herself. There's no such thing. It's her brush. She's won't give it up.

Clark forgot to take the laundry downstairs from the hamper. Lana digs out the towels, socks and underwear. She wants to help him, not question him. At the bottom is Clark's shirt. Something glimmers against the scarlet hue. She drops the pile on the floor to inspect the reflected light. Several blonde hairs cling to the article. Clark's shirt smells like Chloe. Not her perfume, but of her. That scent Lana learned when they shared a bedroom for two and half years. The shirt just reeks of Chloe Sullivan.

Clark knocks on the door and comes into the bathroom. He's looking good, but not chipper. He notices his shirt in Lana's hands. Surely he knows what she's thinking, because his sense of smell is so much better than hers.

Paralyzed, Clark waits for the accusation. Lana can't figure out what to say. She can't ignore it nor can she point a finger at him, not without seeming petty and shrew-like. She doesn't want a label pinned to her. So instead, she asks him a rhetorical question.

"On a scale from one to ten, how much do you love me, Clark?"

"A ten."

It's not a Clark-like answer. Normally, he would say that he would never hurt her. He gives an answer back to her, too fast and too certain, lacking wonder and mystery. It's a lie. God, she hates secrets and lies.

He has a secret and it's with Chloe Sullivan. She brushes past Clark, trying not to cry.

* * *

A package rests on the mahogany table in Ruth Moyer's home. It's smaller than a shoe box, larger than a hard back book. It's simply wrapped in brown paper. Her heart skips a beat. She recognizes the curvy handwriting from Lana's Christmas card. Ruth knows what's inside as she frantically rips apart the paper.

After ten years of asking, Nell and Lana finally decided to return her rightful heirloom.

The brush is in beautiful shape. Lana took good care of it. She even had the boar bristles replaced and the silver polished. Ruth picks up the brush and finds a note underneath it.

"Beware, the brush is cursed."


End file.
